It’s that time of year again. The one you either love or loathe, TAX TIME!
And let’s face it the only reason you'd love it is because you are getting a big fat refund.
And see, for the last, oh ten or so years, this has been my day job. Doing tax returns. Riveting I know. But the thing is, it is often not about the actual work you are doing, but the people you are working with. I’m sure even if you were doing the best job in the world, i.e. Bradley Cooper's Personal Assistant, you would still detest going into work each day if everyone around you acted like an arsehole. While granted, the lovely ladies I work with do not resemble Bradley Cooper (probably for the best), they are wonderful and funny and I love spending my day shooting the shit with them.
So back to tax, here are a few pointers from someone who has probably seen it all. A heads up as it were.
Do not try and pass off your new pec implants as a medical expense. It wasn't a ripped muscle due to excessive exercise. I can read the terminology on an invoice.
No, actually, I can't work out what you will be getting as a refund when you haven't given me all the information because I seem to have failed to activate my crystal ball. Give me a sec.
Do not give me all of your shit in manual and written form and then claim to use your computer 100% for work. I am not mentally challenged.
No. Your alcohol is not deductible. OK, once upon a time, I believe in the eighties, you could get away with a fair bit of stuff, boozy lunches being one of them. Now, no. OK. Just no. And hey, I’m as disappointed with this as you are.
If you don’t actually own a vehicle, please don’t try and tell me you take your heavy tools to and from work each day. I know you can’t and you don’t. Again, I may not look like it, but I actually possess a functioning brain.
No. I do not need to see pictures of your colonoscopy. Not necessary. A simple invoice will suffice.
Ditto love letters left inside your copious amounts of irrelevant paper work. Especially the ones that delve a little deeper into your personal lives than I necessarily need to know about.
Yes, yes you do have to tell me about the income you received from Dazza when you were labouring for him for 6 months. Especially when you tell me about it fuckstick. You have no idea how many times people say to me “Oh I got cash for about six months, but no one needs to know about that do they?” Well hey; no one would have until you opened your massive mouth. I prepare your tax return, I am not a priest.
It’s really nice talking to you but it is not necessary to hand me EVERY INDIVIDUAL PIECE OF INFORMATION. Believe it or not, I know what I’m looking at and get this; I’m not going to steal it. Hand it over.
OK. So there are a few tips. Quite disturbing that I already have such passive aggressive thoughts and tax season is not even a week old.
Any questions? I’ll do my best to answer them. Remember there are not stupid questions. Just ones I’ll use in next year’s Tax Time Blog post.